Sherlock and His Seeker
by bucktooth22
Summary: Sherlock, the only male confessor, and John the seeker, go on a quest to defeat the evil king Moriarty ruling the land.


Disclaimer: alas, i doth not own Sherlock nor doth i own Legend of the Seeker.

Sherlock had never met his aunt or the Seeker she fell in love with. He knew his mom, the confessor, and his father, the hard worker. His parents had taken him to an island where they could live alone, away from the rest of the world. Mom would wash clothes and tend the garden as father built the things they needed. Toys for Sherlock, bookshelves, and anything else they needed. Sherlock was in charge of tending to the animals but his true passion was in the books he so vehemently read. A man named Mycroft would come once a week to bring Sherlock a book and to teach him. As his tutor, Mycroft was one of Sherlock's favorite people so when he stopped coming over to their island Sherlock, naturally, threw a fit. He decided to run away from home to find either the Seeker or his tutor. He was 19 years old and ready to leave his secluded island and find adventure. He made himself a small raft by tying some wood boards together and used another for a paddle. He had to work at it for a while but after he was done he felt rewarded. He saw a farm house and a field of crops. There was a cow in a small fenced area and a golden haired man in the field. Sherlock, not having interacted with people off his secluded island, didn't really know what to do. He abandoned his raft and moved towards the man. As he got closer he was able to hide among the crops until he had a perfect view of the man at work, cutting corn stalks with a scythe, while still being unseen. The man looked short but was well muscled and tan. He had scars and grey eyes. The sunlight lit up his golden hair like a halo. Sherlock stood there watching the man, mesmerized by his beauty but not being seen himself. The blond man stood up from his stoop of working and wiped his brow with a handkerchief tied around his wrist. Sherlock saw the color, brown and made a note of it. He wanted to remember everything about this man. He was debating on moving closer when he stepped on a dead leaf. The loud crunch scared Sherlock so he stumbled backwards and fell onto a corn stalk. It broke in two with a loud snap. He sat in the dirt looking horrified when the beautiful man found him. With a wary look he appraised Sherlock.

"I suppose you were't trying to steel my crops?" He said as he offered his hand. Sherlock stared at it confused.

"Why do you say that?" The raven haired boy asked as he scrambled to his feet. The blond took his hand back with a look of small hurt before he masked it.

"You made all sorts of noise." He said as if it were obvious.

"Which means I'm not intent on stealing?" Sherlock asked.

"Well thieves come and go silently so i don't even know they've been here. But if you are trying to steel i'd be more than happy to summon a guard." He responded.

"My name's Sherlock." Sherlock said. He wanted to know more of this man and he figured conversation was the best way to do that.

"John." Said the man as he once again offered his hand. Once again Sherlock stared at it. "Not one for handshakes i suppose." John said as he once again retracted his hand.

"Handshakes?" Sherlock inquired. "What on earth is that? Is it like an earthquake?"

"Not at all." John said with a chuckle. "You must not be from around here. How did you get into the kingdom?"

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked confused.

"You don't have a label." John said indicating the brown handkerchief around his wrist. "People don't come into the land without one and people get arrested if they don't have it on. 10 lashes." John said looking around nervously.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"It's the law. Ever since Moriarty took over." John said bitterly.

"Who's Moriarty? Is he bad? What about the seeker?" Sherlock asked.

"Moriarty is the king. It is forbidden to talk badly about him. If they catch you doing so you will be put to death." John said quickly. Sherlock looked horrified.

"What about the seeker?" He asked again.

"It is forbidden to talk about him." John said in a whisper.

"Why can't he defeat Moriarty?" Sherlock asked.

"He's been dead since i was four." John said with a frown.

"When one seeker dies another one takes its place. We just have to find the new seeker." Sherlock said eagerly.

"Every seeker needs a confessor." John said slowly.

"So? What's the problem?" Sherlock asked as if the conversation were dull to him.

"The confessors have been extinct for years." John said with furrowed brow.

"That can't be true." Sherlock said sounding bored.

"It is." John responded a bit too harsh in his frustration.

"No it isn't." Sherlock replied. John looked like he wanted to hit Sherlock but he refrained.

"Oh? And why not?" John asked.

"My mother lives." Sherlock replied. John looked so surprised his eyes were about to pop out of his head.

"Y- your m-mother?" John asked stuttering. Sherlock nodded pleased to have gotten John so befuddled. "That mens you're one too." John said.

"I am not allowed to use my ability. Male confessors are evil." Sherlock said as if he were reciting something he had said many times.

"Sherlock that means-" John stopped talking and looked to the sky. Sherlock was afraid he had upset John but when he looked back down at Sherlock the blond's face was in a massive grin.

The bond between a seeker and his confessor is a strained one. They are meant to be together but never allowed to touch. They are meant to be in love but not to act upon that love. The two must die together, live together, and love together but never be together. It is the curse of the seeker and his confessor.

"Sherlock I became the seeker when Richard, the last seeker died. I- i figured i could never do anything because i wouldn't have a confessor." John said excitedly.

"I'll go back home and get my mother." Sherlock said as he began to turn around.

"No!" John said quickly before he could compose himself. "What i mean is, please, i want you to be my confessor."

"But I'm forbidden from confessing." Sherlock rushed to say. "I cant be your confessor. And we cant fall in love!" Sherlock said in a rush. He had never told anyone how he felt. He had never felt drawn to another because he had never met other people. He had seen a picture of Richard and Kahlan but they were his relation so there was nothing to feel but familial love. He loved Mycroft but once again, he was considered family. Mycroft was more of a brother to Sherlock than anything else.

"How did you escape the Purge of the Angels?" John asked.

"What is that?" Sherlock asked incredulously.

"That's what Moriarty named the genocide of Confessors." John responded patiently.

"Well i live on an island no one knows about. My uncle's grandfather put a spell on it so no one can see it unless they already know about it." Sherlock said.

"You know a wizard?" John asked excitedly.

"He died with Richard and Kahlan." Sherlock said slowly.

"Your uncle was the last seeker?!" John asked.

"Well sort of. Mum always told me to call him my uncle because he and Aunt Kahlan were seeker and confessor but they were never officially married to my knowledge." Sherlock said. John nodded.

"So we just need a wizard." John said thoughtfully.

"While you're getting a wizard i'll fetch my mother to be your confessor." Sherlock said.

"No Sherlock. I want you to be my confessor." John said.

"But I'm forbidden from confessing." Sherlock hissed.

"Oh hush." John said as he leaned on his scythe thoughtfully.

"Im just looking for my tutor. That's all. His name's Mycroft." Sherlock said.

"Mycroft?" John asked incredulously.

"Yes. What of it? Do you know him?" Sherlock asked.

"He's a wizard of the same skill level of Zed. He's the one who told me i was the new seeker." John said.

"Well could you help me find him?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"Sure!" John said happily. "It'll be our first quest together."

"I'll not be your seeker." Sherlock said tartly.

"Why don't you go inside. I still have to finish my work for the day. Find a label, I'm sure i have some." John said as he picked up his crude scythe. Sherlock sighed and went inside. It was a simple house with a dirt floor. There were no windows or rooms. There was a space that would work as a kitchen in one corner, a small mat in the other. There was a small wooden box in another corner. Sherlock opened the box to find sturdy work clothes from at least three different jobs. He rummaged through until he found another brown label like John's. He managed to get it around one wrist suitably and then found a pair of light work gloves. They looked like something someone would wear to garden or wrangle horses. He looked at his clothes. Light purple shirt that covered his arms. Dark pants and black boots, he was mostly covered. He looked at his hands. Someone only needed to make contact with him to be confessed and his face and hands were bare. He pulled the gloves on and they fit nicely. He sat on the bed and deemed it uncomfortable. Getting up he went back outside. John was still hard at work. Sherlock had so many questions but he didn't want to ask John. Turning around he noticed a small barn. He went over to it and found a goat, a cow, and a work horse each in their own stall. He walked over to the cow and looked at it. The other secret Sherlock had, he could talk with animals. He had been able to as long as he could remember. He never understood why, perhaps it was because he took care of them every day, or perhaps it was because he was a male confessor. He was the only male confessor and maybe the one that had been evil could too. Perhaps, Sherlock mused, it was part of the reason he was deemed "evil."

"Hello there." Sherlock said quietly.

"Hello." She responded with a small moo.

"My name's Sherlock." Sherlock said looking curiously at her.

"I don't have a name. The master just calls me cow." She responded.

"Does he talk to you often?" Sherlock asked.

"Only when he's milking me." She responded.

"Do you want a name?" Sherlock asked looking around to make sure no one could hear them.

"Only if my master gives it to me." She said in a very superior manner. Sherlock tired of the conversation with a cow that believed herself superior. He walked over to the horse.

"Hello." Sherlock said.

"Hello. Sherlock was it? Sorry, couldn't help but hear your conversation over there." He said nodding to the cow.

"Yes, I'm Sherlock." Sherlock said.

"No, she's not always like that. My name's Clide." The horse said.

"A pleasure Clide." Sherlock said. "What caused her change in mood?"

"The master's mad at her right now cause she stopped letting him milk her so she's all upset." Clide said.

"Why wont you let him milk you?" Sherlock asked turning to Cow.

"He named the other two! Why cant he name me?!" She whaled.

"I see." Sherlock said carefully.

"And what's your name?" Sherlock asked turning to the little goat.

"Nell." She said shyly.

"It's a pleasure Molly." Sherlock said.

"The pleasure's all mine." She responded.

"Oh shut up with all the nice-ness." Sherlock signed at her. He looked over at Clide and then at Cow. "Any other complaints you wish me to bring to John?" He asked.

"I need new horseshoes." Clide said.

"Alright." Sherlock said with an eye roll.

"Clide needs horseshoes, and Cow needs a name." Sherlock turned to Molly. "What do you want Molly?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh nothing." She said wistfully. Sherlock nearly groaned at her annoying aloofness but just then John walked into the barn. He hung up his scythe on the wall.

"I heard you talking." John said casually as he approached Sherlock.

"Having trouble milking Cow?" Sherlock retorted.

"What's it to you?" John asked.

"Give her a name and that problem'll go away." Sherlock said. John studied him curiously for a moment before turning to the cow.

"Mrs. Hudson, would you do me the honor?" John asked as he opened the door to her stall. She stepped out and stood there. John shot Sherlock a look before fetching a stool and a bucket. "I have to go into town later." John said as he began working. "Would you wish to join me?" John asked.

"I thought we were going on our quest." Sherlock said.

"We'll wait till nightfall to do that." John said.

"I guess i could join you." Sherlock responded.

"Then it's settled. After I'm done working we'll take Clide into town." John said shooting Sherlock a smile. It was the start of an interesting relationship. It was the start of an interesting quest. It was the start of an interesting life.


End file.
